Rising Hope by Edie James

23

Danger rode the air,making Enzo buzz with tension. He had every faith in Sarah’s acting abilities, but these goons were wolves, feral killers who’d cut them down in a heartbeat if they perceived a threat.

And there was nothing he could do about it but rely on his Savior to guide him.

Sarah didn’t even have that.

He lifted a prayer, concentrating hard to blanket her with the Lord’s benevolent protection.

He kept his focus on the head man, Yeltzen. Any orders that mattered would come from him.

Not that he needed to worry about Sarah. She handled the transaction like the pro she was, charming Ulrich and Yeltzen as they went through the usual ritual of exchanging large satchels of drugs for money she wired out of the government’s secret account.

He remained next to the aircraft, making sure none of the Russian men got close. If Halliburton was right about the surveillance devices, they’d have everything recorded. Sarah did a masterful job of ensuring that Yeltzen, Ulrich, and the money-guy, Patel, faced the cameras while they discussed the purity of their lab-made drugs.

By the time Yeltzen’s men had the extra-large load of duffle bags secured in the helo, Enzo was certain they had enough video to put everyone on scene away for decades.

Or get them to turn on the Tambov Roka’s highest members. He wasn’t strictly law enforcement, but he’d grown up listening to his father, and now Rollo and Noah, discussing the ins and outs of the legal system.

He was helping Sarah into the passenger seat, ready to close the door when the older Russian put out a hand, stopping him. “I do have one more question before you go.” His deep, gravelly voice sounded all the more ominous riding the soft, afternoon breeze.

Enzo froze, but Sarah responded fast enough for both of them. She caressed Yeltzen’s arm, her lacquered nails sparkling in the fading sunlight. “What’s that, doll?”

The man jerked a stubby thumb at the cargo strapped to the floor behind their seats. “You ever take a little for yourselves?”

Sarah sighed longingly. “I don’t play in my own sandbox, Dmitri. That’s a bad habit to get into.”

Back by the vehicles, the skinny accountant, Patel, shook his head sadly. “You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s first-grade stuff. A wild ride.”

A pained look crossed Yeltzen’s face. The flippant kid wouldn’t be breathing much longer if he didn’t learn to hold his tongue around his superiors. Not that Enzo should care.

Ignoring his employee’s comment, Yeltzen stared them down. “I mean the other merchandise,” he emphasized the last word in his heavy accent.

Sarah shot Enzo a puzzled look before responding. “What are you getting at?” She leaned out of the aircraft, taking the Russian’s fleshy face between her hands. “Are you holding out on me, Yeltzy? Do you have a new product?”

The man’s face reddened. Enzo could only pray it was with embarrassment, or pleasure, not anger.

Yeltzen pulled out of Sarah’s grasp. His loud laugh sent relief flooding through Enzo’s veins. “We do not,” Yeltzen confessed. “Soon, hopefully. You’ll be the first to know.”

Sarah cocked her head, smiling seductively. “I should hope so. I’m your best customer.”

He smiled appreciatively. “That you are, Mrs. Duvall.” He backed away from them. “Safe travels,” he said and walked back toward the SUVs. His men followed.

Enzo hurried around the nose of the helicopter and climbed into the pilot’s seat, his legs shaking more than he wanted to admit.

Sarah remained silent while he ran through a minimal preflight and got them in the air. He pulled up on the collective, raising the helo as fast as he dared without making her airsick. They flew northwest, chasing a stunning late autumn sunset back to the landing site.

“I think we got what we needed,” she said once they had a hill between them and the Russians. “Between Yeltzen, Ulrich and Patel, at least one of them’ll turn against the others, and their bosses.”

He liked hearing the pride in her voice, but his relief that they made it safely through this minefield was tempered by the sour realization that she’d be disappearing. “Very cool. Your last undercover mission.”

“Yours, too.”

No kidding. He didn’t mind the danger, but he’d rather spend his time saving stranded mariners, a fulfilling job that didn’t endanger his family and friends. And didn’t require lies.

He prayed, not realizing he’d spoken out loud until Sarah said, “Amen.”

He eyed her. “I thought you didn’t believe?”

She smiled cheekily. “It might be time to start.”

Her words were typically flippant, more Peaches than Sarah, but her tone held a sense of awe.

A start, maybe. All she had to do was crack the door and the Lord would handle the rest.

She turned toward him, her expression uncharacteristically thoughtful. “That was weird, at the end there. I wonder what Yeltzen was digging for.”

Her statement only confirmed Enzo’s own gut feeling. The man had been testing them somehow. Whatever concerned Yeltzen, they clearly passed.

The rest was way above Enzo’s pay grade.

The last low hill disappeared beneath them, bringing the old ranch into view. The pest control van sat, nosed in next to Sarah’s sports car. Good. He and Sarah wouldn’t have to wait around for the agents, making awkward small talk. He much preferred his endings quick and tidy.

He zeroed in on the landing. Once he had the aircraft levelled off above the trailer, he glanced her way, only to catch her watching him, a speculative look in her gorgeous green eyes.

“What?” he asked.

She pleated the denim of her jeans, a nervous gesture he’d noticed from the first day they met. “It just hit me. This is our last flight.”

“Sorry?”

“Not entirely.” She grinned. “You’re a great pilot, but I won’t miss flying.”

“But you’ll miss me, right?” He wanted her to admit it.

Which was ridiculous. He hadn’t wanted to take the assignment in the first place, and while he admired her, liked her even, they had no place in each other’s worlds.

And yet, he couldn’t help hoping.

For the briefest instant, regret darkened her eyes, but then she did a little shimmy, transforming back into Peaches Duvall. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Boy Scout,” she answered in Peaches’ throaty tone and turned away to watch the sun sink behind the last ridgetop between them and the sea.

“I guess we’ll never know where Wenmark disappeared to,” she said.

“Hard to say. I can keep looking,” he offered.

He would anyway. He was caught up in the mystery now. Plus, it would offer a way to stay in touch with her. Remind her of everything The Cove had to offer.

But she shook her head. “Probably not a good idea. I doubt the cartel was involved, but you don’t want to show up on their radar. And you don’t want to make the FBI or the NSA suspicious. Halliburton’s a nasty enemy, and he’s nowhere near the worst of them.”

“Understood.” Wise counsel for sure.

He debated asking about her obvious history with Special Agent McStuffy, but he didn’t want to pry. Plus, what was the point? He’d never see either of them again.

He set the aircraft down, the light chink of the skids kissing the metal floor of the trailer the only sign that they’d landed.

Sarah could have exited the helo, but she waited for him to work his way through the shutdown procedures, sitting calmly, her huge purse on her lap.

A tiny step, and too little too late, but it made him smile.

Under the right circumstances, that heart of hers would thaw. She was close to an awakening. Once she allowed herself to be vulnerable, she’d be ready to receive the blessings her Savior was ready to bestow.

In the meantime, maybe they could stay in touch.

The door of the van opened with the screech of un-lubricated hinges, and Munson and Panetta emerged, their faces grim. The agents headed toward them, their movements clipped. Jumpy, Enzo would have said, if they weren’t seasoned government agents.

Enzo’s Spidey senses flared. Sarah’s too, judging from the worried look she shot him. Her hands tightened on her purse.

Gaze on the two men, she unfastened her shoulder harness and opened the door. “Wait,” he said, but she ignored him and climbed out of the aircraft.

He jerked the emergency brake hard, stopping the rotors, and hurried after her.

Munson reached them first, his eyes taking in everything around him with a calculating sweep. “Open the door,” he ordered Enzo.

Bristling at the guy’s tone, Enzo forced himself to remain calm. No sense inviting trouble now, so close to the end. He slid the cargo door open and stepped back, away from the pile of black bags. “You bet.”

While Munson grabbed two of the bags, grunting at the weight, Panetta stepped in front of Sarah, blocking her from Enzo’s view. “We could use your help,” he told Enzo.

Huh. So this time, he was okay to schlep drugs? He was tempted to refuse, but the quicker they unloaded the cargo, the quicker he could be rid of these guys. He grabbed one of the heavy bags, hoisting it up on his shoulder.

Sarah moved to help, but Panetta blocked her way. “They’ve got this. I need your help retrieving the recording devices.”

Enzo bristled at the way the man addressed her, but Sarah just shrugged and set her purse on the passenger seat. “No problem.”

Holding the duffle bag in place with both hands, Enzo tromped along on Munson’s heels and heaved the bag into the open van.

“Two more loads should do it,” Munson said, “if you can manage two at a time.”

He sounded unconvinced.

Enzo snorted silently. So what if the guy outweighed him by fifty pounds? Belly fat didn’t make people strong. “I can manage.”

“Doubtful,” the man said from behind him.

Whatever. He’d had enough of these sour-faced agents and their macho games. He turned back toward the helo, but before he could take another step, pain exploded at the base of his skull. His knees buckled, but the world went dark long before he hit the ground.